


One Night a Year

by TheLittlestShinigami



Series: Adorable and Fluffy [2]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: 5-ish chapters, DSAF - Freeform, DSAF and FNAF fusion, Dayshift At Freddy's - Freeform, F/M, Henry the brains and Will the loose cannon with a knife, Henry's a jerk but he's trying not to be, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Will and Henry were a robot-building child-killing team, Will's not perfect but he's been working hard and getting better, a halloween story in september? more likely than you think, angsty fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:33:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26363491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittlestShinigami/pseuds/TheLittlestShinigami
Summary: Ghosts are allowed to visit earth once a year on Halloween and William, Henry, and George (crying child) decide to use this chance to visit their remaining family. But reunions aren't simple when you're a child murderer, and Charlie might not be as keen to forgive her father as William had hoped. (Sequel to Adorable and Fluffy, but can be read separately.)
Relationships: Michael Afton & Charlotte "Charlie" Emily, William Afton | Dave Miller & Henry Emily, William Afton | Dave Miller & Henry Miller, William Afton | Dave Miller & Jack Kennedy
Series: Adorable and Fluffy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915846
Comments: 17
Kudos: 41





	1. Ghosts and Ghouls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a cheat sheet for people who haven't read Adorable and Fluffy (if you've read it already/want to jump in blind, feel free to skip):
> 
> -This story draws from the FNAF games, the FNAF books, and Dayshift at Freddy's. Henry Miller and William Afton worked together to kidnap children, experiment on them in their underground lab, and eventually kill them. Henry killed himself. 
> 
> -Mike and Charlie got married, changed their name to Schmidt, and had two kids of their own: Sammy and Beth.
> 
> -In the previous story, Mike and Charlie found William in the Springbonnie suit trapped in Fazbear's Fright and brought him home to live with them in the garage. Hilarity (read "a lot of pain and some soft moments") ensued before he finally passed on to be with Henry and George in the afterlife.
> 
> -Michael was scooped and inhabited briefly by Elizabeth. Now she lives with them in spaghetti form. Mike is a little zombified, but he's hanging in there.
> 
> -No one can see Henry, William, and George's ghosts except their family and a neighbor named Jack Kennedy.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

“You should go without me tonight, Will. Better to let their memory of me fade. It’s more logical that way. Less messy.”

“But we’ve been talking about this all summer. I thought you were excited.”

“I was, but…”

“What about your grandkids? Don’t you think they want to meet you?”

“Well…”

“And Charlie. What about Charlie?”

“Charlotte hates me.”

“She misses you. …And if I show up without you, well, she has an ax.”

“I don’t know, Will…”

“Please, Henry…for me?”

—

Fog moved into Denver the moment the sun went down. It sat in thick patches in downtown and the suburbs alike, sticking to the red, orange, and yellow deciduous trees that lined the sidewalks. Under the streetlights, parents walked with their children dressed as astronauts, superheroes, supervillains, aliens, or ghosts, holding plastic jack-o-lantern-shaped baskets full of candy.

The Schmidts’ neighborhood was an especially popular place to trick-or-treat. It wasn’t one of the notoriously wealthy neighborhoods, but the area was safe, most houses were decorated, and at least two-thirds of the families living there had small children. There was no guarantee that trick-or-treaters wouldn’t get the occasional apple or pencil in their candy basket when knocking on doors in that neighborhood, but most doors opened when they were knocked on and each trick-or-treater was met with excitement and showered with compliments about their costume.

In the process of helping Beth and Sammy get their costumes on, Mike and Charlie had answered the door and handed out candy seven times already. Sammy took this as a sign that they were late and needed to hurry up and get out there before the candy was gone, but Charlie assured him that just because some kids were early didn’t mean that they were late. Michael laughed at this as he worked on Beth’s costume and thought that he could have done with more of those kinds of assurances as a kid. Beth was nearby slashing the air with her foam sword, wearing her t-rex mask and boots and Michael commented that when her costume was all put together, it would look really cute.

Beth stopped slashing and stared at him, exasperated. “I told you a thousand times, Dad, it’s not supposed to be cute. It’s supposed to be scary. A scary dinosaur princess.”

Michael chuckled to himself as he sat hunched at the kitchen table hot gluing the final sequins on the torn and artificially bloodied ballet tutu with crocodile-patterned spandex underneath with thin, bandaid-wrapped fingers. “Okay,” he agreed. “I’ll stop calling it that, then. Honey?” he called to Charlie. Charlie looked up from where she was kneeling in the entryway strapping knee and elbow pads into place on Sammy’s Halloween costume while he stood obediently still.

“Yeah?” she replied.

“Beth’s a _scary_ dinosaur princess,” said Michael. “Not a cute one. Got it?”

Charlie smirked. “You say that like it’s news to me,” she said. “You’re the only one who keeps calling it cute.”

Michael gave a playfully dramatic sigh and slumped in his chair: a little too dramatically, he realized, when the stitches down his torso pinched. He pressed a hand to the outside of his sweatshirt and massaged the pain away. That happened sometimes still, but not nearly as often as it had before his father and sister patched up the holes inside him left by the cable-woven endoskeleton.

“Lizzie!” Charlie called down the hall. “How’s it coming? Need help zipping or tying anything?”

Mike heard Elizabeth’s bedroom door open and the soft, slightly metallic sound of her cloth and cable feet walking across the hardwood floor. She peeked around the corner of the wall at first, the glow from her purple eyes reflecting off the kitchen window, but then she finally emerged fully. She had insisted on making the costume herself rather than choosing one from the store and, unlike Beth or Sammy’s, there was nothing scary about it. Intentionally, that is.

Because her body was made of loose cables, she could unwind and reshape it at will, and this time, she had made her body tall and thin with a slight beer belly, rather than the four-foot body that fit inside the Raggedy Ann doll. She wasn’t wearing the doll tonight. She was wearing a pair of purple bellbottoms with suspenders, a ruffly white shirt, rabbit paw gloves and feet, and an easter bunny head. When Mike had asked her what she was going to dress as, she said the easter bunny, but with the way she had shaped her body, it was clear who she had really dressed as. Seeing their father recreated in front of him, even imperfectly, sent chills up Mike’s spine and made him ache deep inside.

Beth caught sight of her and her jaw dropped. Charlie gave Michael an uncomfortable look. “That’s so cool, Lizzie!” Beth said. “How’d you get so tall?”

Elizabeth rubbed her arms self-consciously. “We’ve changed our mind,” she said. “We want to be a princess like Beth. This costume is stupid.”

There came a knock at the door. Mike started to stand up, but Charlie got up faster with a “I got it, hon,” slipped her wizard cloak on, and grabbed the candy bowl.

“But you worked so hard on it,” said Mike. “You really look great, sis. Honestly. I think the easter bunny would be proud.”

Charlie opened the front door and was met with an explosion of child voices screaming, “Trick or treat!” She complimented them on their costumes and offered the candy for their taking.

Elizabeth looked at Mike, and then at the children on the front step. “We don’t want to wear this anymore.” She took off the rabbit gloves and dropped them on the floor, revealing tightly wound cable hands. “It makes us sad. And we don’t want to scare the other kids.”

Mike smiled sadly at his sister and eased to his feet. He understood completely. She missed William—they all did—but even though they knew he had changed, that he cared about his family enough to make the effort to change, to seek help, to keep trying even after multiple failures and hurts, what he did in the past was still a sore spot. By the time he passed over into the afterlife last winter, Mike hardly remembered William the child murderer from the eighties and was just sad to see William his dad go. However, when he saw Elizabeth’s costume, he couldn’t help but be drawn back to his own childhood, watching William entertain children in his Springbonnie suit, children he would later kill and experiment on with Henry. It was good that Elizabeth had wanted to feel closer to their dad by copying his costume, but if it was bringing up too many bad memories for her, there was no shame in changing.

“Beth?” said Mike. Beth stopped stabbing the couch with her foam sword and looked up. “Can Liz wear your princess dress from last year?”

“Yup,” Beth balanced her sword on the back of the couch and led Elizabeth up the stairs. As they walked, Elizabeth slowly removed the rabbit head, revealing a tangle of cables and two glowing electronic eyes. Sammy ran after them, determined not to be left out.

It had taken a long time for Elizabeth to get comfortable with having Charlie and the kids see what she looked like underneath the doll skin she always wore. After leaving Michael’s body, she had only removed her skin for the surgery and then never again. She didn’t take her cloth casing off for many months and it took lots of negotiating and reasoning to get her to remove it long enough for Charlie to wash it. She stayed in her room under the covers the whole time and only came out when it was ready to wear again. But on Beth’s birthday that April, something had changed. Michael didn’t know what exactly, but he saw it in the way she watched the birthday cake as they sang, the candlelight making her sewn eyes shimmer. Though her doll face didn’t emote, it looked pensive, withdrawn, like she was realizing for the first time that, someday, her playmates would grow up and leave her behind.

The very next morning, she had come out of her room wearing a dress, holding the doll skin, and told Michael that it was dirty again and needed to be washed. She started experimenting with different shapes, pretending to be older sometimes, copying Charlie’s form and sitting at the table asking for a cup of coffee and a newspaper, and younger other times, copying Sammy when he was a year younger when they had met and pretending she didn’t know how to read. She even tried to form her body into a large dog and chase Beth and Sammy around the backyard, but having them run away from her screaming, even just playing, got old quickly and she never did it again.

Mike sat at the table again and Charlie sat across from him with the candy bowl. She unwrapped a fun-sized Butterfingers as Mike glued the last few sequins onto Beth’s dress. “Think she’s okay?” Charlie asked quietly.

Michael glanced back up the stairs to make sure Elizabeth wasn’t listening. “I think she’s still working through stuff,” he answered. “Like all of us. But she’ll be okay.”

Charlie placed her hands on Mike’s and smiled. “Like us,” she added. She kissed him gently. “We’ll be okay, too.” She laughed, licked her thumb, and wiped chocolate off of Mike’s lower lip.

Mike pretended to be shocked. “I can’t have food,” he said in a serious whisper. “Are you trying to poison me?”

“You caught me,” she chuckled, wiping off the last traces of it. “Care to risk it again?”

Mike grinned. He leaned in for another kiss when the doorbell rang. Charlie started to stand up but Mike held her hands. “No I got it,” he said. “It’s Halloween. A zombie mummy man’s exactly what they’re expecting to see. I will need to take that candy from you, though. And your cape.”

Charlie laughed and sat back. “If you gotta.”

Mike stood up with the candy bowl, took his baseball hat off, and slipped Charlie’s wizard robe on. He didn’t know what he was supposed to be, but at least his sunken, cracked flesh looked like a costume of some sort. He made a playfully ghoulish face at Charlie who waved him away. He was still smiling when he opened the door but his smile immediately disappeared. He dropped the plastic bowl with a hollow thud and the candy spilled all over the doorstep. Only one of the three translucent figures standing there was a child, and standing at the front, finger poised to ring the doorbell again, was—

“Dad.” Mike’s voice came out as a hoarse whisper, as though the scooper had gotten his lungs after all. Before him on the front step were three ghosts: William, Mike’s little brother George, and a man with his back turned looking up at the moon. William stood there motionless for a moment, smiling but looking embarrassed like maybe he had presumed too much or had come at a bad time. He looked the way he had the last time Mike had seen him, except he was no longer injured or bleeding. His skin wasn’t blotchy or scarred and his clothes weren’t torn. He looked the way he had the last morning Mike had seen him alive, wearing his favorite purple shirt with the tiny embroidered yellow rabbit on the pocket he was so proud of. His lucky shirt.

“Mike,” he said quietly. He lifted his arms as though he meant to hug him, then lowered them again, worrying that a hug might not be welcome. Mike stepped forward and embraced him. William’s body wasn’t solid, but it had a little weight, like an air current or a magnetic field. He felt his father’s long arms wrap around him.

“Welcome back, Dad,” said Mike. Deep relief pierced his artificially preserved heart. Before stepping into the portal to the afterlife with George, William had promised Mike that he would visit as soon as he could. Mike said he’d hold him to that, but they both knew William wouldn’t be coming back. Ghosts didn’t come back once they properly moved on. Or so Mike had thought, but he must have been wrong. Mike wondered if William had been working to figure out how to do it ever since they had separated. He hoped his father hadn’t broken any afterlife rules to make it happen.

“You look great. Sturdy,” William said, pulling Michael out of the embrace and putting his hands on his shoulders. He looked long and hard at him, as though drinking it all in. He pressed a couple fingers to a cut that had opened up in Michael’s cheek last month; Mike had been careful not to tear it any further and most days kept it protected from the air with a wide bandaid—he didn’t want it opening up all the way through to his teeth—but that night, he had forgotten to put a new one on. “You holding up okay? Do we need to fix anything while I’m here?”

Michael chuckled and guided his hand away from his face. “I’m fine, Dad. Recovery was slow, but the surgery was a success. The IV’s been helping, too.”

William gave a long exhale and smiled wide. “Thank god,” he said.

“Hi, Mike!”

Michael crouched to George’s height and gave him a hug. “Hi George. I’m so glad to see you again. You been taking care of Dad over there?”

“As much as I can,” said George. He reached for William’s hand and William took it.

George looked exactly the same as Mike remembered; the same clothes he had died in and everything. However, unlike then, even though he was still the same six-year-old kid, he had developed a calm sort of knowing confidence. It was George who had come to guide William into the afterlife, and Michael had a hunch George was the one who had sent the ghosts of William’s victims to visit him.

When he was alive, George would never have thought to do something like that, but death did strange things to a person; while George’s new power and wherewithal were somewhat unnerving, they seemed overall positive. William needed the structure, at least; he needed someone looking out for him. If William had been truly alone in the afterlife like he had feared, Mike didn’t think even afterlife rules would be able to curb his destructive tendencies. But tonight, they looked great—whole and healthy. All of them, even the man with his back turned. Michael wasn’t sure who it was, but something about him was familiar.

William stepped back and put his hands on the shoulders of the other man, whispering into his ear. The man mumbled something back that William didn’t appreciate. Flashing his customer service smile at Mike he hunched closer to the man and whispered more harshly.

“Who’s at the door?” Charlie asked, coming over. Michael stood slowly with George’s help; George apparently had no trouble moving things in the physical world.

“Dad’s back,” Mike announced excitedly. “And George, my brother. Can you—?” Charlie nodded numbly, staring at the visitors. Mike smiled in relief. “Good. Awesome. And…Dad, um, who’s this?”

William smiled worriedly, glancing between the man and his family. “Why, this…this is Mr. Miller—er, U-Uncle Henry.” He guided the man to turn around, and the man did reluctantly. He had his shoulders hunched up around his ears and his face was angled down so low all Mike could see was his hair and the ridge of his glasses. William noticed the discomfort of everyone around him and his anxiety spiked up another notch. He looked desperately at Charlie. “I-I told him he had to come tonight because…because I figured you’d, um, you’d want to, um…” As he spoke, he became less and less confident that he had done the right thing. His eyes were getting rounder, his smile was getting tighter.

Mike wished Charlie would say something to diffuse the situation, but she was too stunned. He couldn’t blame her; her father had lied to her—lied to everyone—about his involvement in the murders, and then had taken his own life. Like Mike, she had never had the opportunity to fully heal. But Mike also knew that William could only take uncomfortable silence for so long before he started reverting to bad habits. Henry didn’t look all that comfortable either; seeing Mr. Miller, the man who never made a mistake, never apologized, never lost his temper in public, looking so destabilized made Mike feel like he was standing on sand, like he was one step from tragedy. He wanted the pressure to end but he couldn’t just invite them in if Charlie wasn’t okay with it.

Mike rubbed her back encouragingly. “Okay?” he asked under his breath. She didn’t answer for another long moment. William started picking his nails, Henry turned his face away. Finally, she nodded and wiped her eyes.

“Okay,” she agreed quietly. She looked up at William and George, at Henry. She crossed her arms uncomfortably. “Wanna come in?” she offered. Henry looked up briefly, shock sparkling in his green eyes, making the jaw under his beard soften. Charlie stood closer to Mike to allow them room to pass. Without waiting for them, she hurried through the entryway, wiping her eyes again covertly, and jogged upstairs to tell the kids.

The ghosts stood motionless in the entryway as though they were a matching set, among glitter and foam swords and spilled candy. George eventually wandered away and up the stairs; while he was apt to surprise the kids, Mike wasn’t all that worried about him. His concern was focused mainly on the fact that Dr. Henry Miller was standing in his house. He didn’t know anything about Henry’s journey after death. He didn’t know if he was the same manipulative cold person he was in life, or if like William, he had grown, softened with the help of others. He liked to think William wouldn’t have brought him back unless he was safe, but William wasn’t always the best judge of character.

William glanced around the room at all the pieces of Halloween scattered around. “A-are the kids making costumes?” he asked to fill the silence. “Did they go trick-or-treating?”

“Not yet,” answered Mike, still staring at Henry, who straightened a little taller and walked silently over to inspect the glue gun on the table. “We were finishing up their costumes and then we were going to go out.”

William’s face fell a little, looked a little panicked. “Oh, I-I see—“

“But you’ll have plenty of time with them,” Mike amended quickly with a reassuring smile. “They’ve missed you.”

William relaxed a little. “I’ve missed them, too. All of you. You wouldn’t believe how much.”

“I know, Dad,” Mike said. “We’ve missed you, too. How long are you staying? Are you here for good?”

“Just tonight, unfortunately. Just Halloween,” William muttered, pushing a piece of candy around with his shoe. “George says those’re the rules unless there’s a…an emergency. Of some sort. Like a death.”

Mike thought about checking in to make sure his father wasn’t considering manufacturing emergencies in order to visit his family more often, but he decided to let it be for now and trust that, through his and Jack’s sessions last year, he already understood why doing so would cause more harm than good. Mike felt something squishy under his slipper and, finding a crushed piece of chocolate stuck there, he knelt slowly and began putting the candy back into the bowl. William crouched to help him.

“Elizabeth sure did a number on you,” Henry spoke up. The warm, full sound of his voice sent a jolt through Michael’s body, and for a moment, he was a kid again at Freddy’s, listening to Henry on stage in the Fredbear costume wishing a boy happy birthday in the voice he used that seemed to say, “I’ll pretend to care if it’s important to you.” Mike had to struggle not to stand up and tuck his shirt in.

“It was a…” Mike paused. Henry was looking at him now, his hollow, ghostly eyes just as sharp as they were when he was alive. “A misunderstanding,” he finished. William looked between them nervously.

“You made it to adulthood at least,” said Henry, squeezing a drop of hot glue onto the linoleum. “You survived.”

Mike watched unhappily. “Charlie did too,” he said.

Henry hesitated and set the glue gun back on the table, a pensive look on his face. “I suppose,” he agreed quietly.

Mike didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing at all. William couldn’t stand the silence, though, and nearly vibrated with the effort of changing the subject. Children filed by outside, giggling and teasing and making each other shriek. Both Henry and William glanced up at the window, at the shadows that flitted past. William quickly scooped the rest of the candy into the bowl and helped Mike to his feet.

“But I wonder,” Henry continued before anyone could stop him. “If any of us really survived at all.” Mike and William looked at each other. A dog barked from the neighbor’s backyard.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” Elizabeth came running down the stairs in loud, metallic thumps. She was wearing Beth’s old princess costume, a bright blue puff of fabric with white ruffles sewn along every hem and crease. Charlie and the kids were close behind. William stood up just in time to catch Elizabeth as she launched herself at him. His hand slipped through her arm at first, but he caught it the second time around.

“Wow, look at you!” William exclaimed as he spun her above his head. She laughed, her purple eyes glowing, neither of them too concerned that her cables were showing. “Cute as candy and twice as sweet!” Henry stood back against the kitchen table, staring horrified at Elizabeth.

Mike pretended not to see and plastered a smile on his face. “You look great, Liz,” he said. Elizabeth beamed at him, still hanging off their father.

“Thanks,” she said.

Beth and Sammy broke free from behind Charlie and ran giggling and screaming at William. “Grandpa Will!” they squealed and William had barely enough time to disentangle one of his arms from Elizabeth to make room for them. They clamped to him like starfish and he held them tight, kissing the tops of their heads over and over.

Charlie stood removed from the scene, her face and features hidden outside the reach of the ceiling fan’s light. Mike closed the distance between them and held her hand supportively. Still standing back against the table, with hollow eyes burning dully like coals that had almost gone out, Henry stared at Charlie so intensely it was as though they were the only two people in the room.

“Charlotte,” he greeted quietly, like a nod.

Charlie hesitated before responding. She squeezed Mike’s hand. “Dad,” she said just as quietly.

“I, uh,” Henry stepped forward, an inviting hand out. “I missed you.” Charlie stepped back, so he stopped and put his hands into his pockets self-consciously. She didn’t respond again, so he disengaged.

His gaze drifted over to Beth and Sammy who were still hanging off of William, telling him in rapid-fire everything they had done since he went away. Things that included starting second and fifth grade and going to the pumpkin patch and learning how to rollerblade. Elizabeth told how she had grown taller and therefore she was a teenager now. William didn’t know how to respond to that last assertion and covered them in blanket praise. George stayed back by Mike, a smile on his face but Mike could tell his brother felt out of place.

“George, Henry, and I have been busy this year, too,” William said, looking back at George. “Though it’s a little tricky to explain what we’ve been doing and where we’ve been going. Things like time and space are kinda fluid in the afterlife.”

“Really?” Beth asked, interested. Elizabeth stared at him intently, desperate to hear more.

“Dad, can we keep afterlife talk to a minimum please?” Charlie asked.

Henry gave her a strange look, as though he was shocked that she had awarded William such a title. Didn’t they know what a maniac William was? it seemed to say.

“Don’t want to confuse the kids,” Charlie continued.

William nodded in agreement and playfully pretended to zip his lips.

“Did you go haunt castles?” asked Sammy.

“Or!” Beth excitedly flung William’s arm up and down in a wave. “Or did you possess anyone like a demon?”

“Beth…” Charlie rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“Beth,” Mike said more quietly, unable to keep the chuckle out of his voice. “Where do you pick this stuff up?”

William glanced at Henry uncomfortably. “No,” he answered. The way he said it made Mike think such a thing was possible and that maybe they had encountered spirits who did just that. “Uh, no. No, we didn’t. We just…we just walked around and learned stuff. Well, sorta walked. The land kinda folds in on itself and sometimes you have two mornings right in a row without any night in-between and—” Charlie gave him a warning look. “All that to say, no. Possession and hauntings are pretty frowned upon once you’ve already crossed over. They see it as backtracking.”  
“Who’s ‘they’?” asked Beth.

William glanced worriedly at Charlie then smiled back at the kids. “S-so, um, what are you all supposed to be? I’m seeing some kind of dragon, sci-fi, and ballerina theme going on?”

The kids proceeded to show off their costumes and explain the intricacies of their backstories. Henry watched from what seemed an insurmountable barrier, as though the earth had split and his and William’s families had ended up on one side and Henry on the other, watching they careened away from him.

“Hey, uh, Henry,” Mike spoke up. It felt strange calling William’s work partner by his first name. Henry looked up, shocked that someone was talking to him. “Want to meet your grandkids?”

Henry glanced between Mike and Charlie, either for permission or to catch their reaction; Charlie's expression matched Henry’s own heavy-browed concern, while the grimace that tugged at Mike’s split cheek looked more and more like William’s “let’s all get along” smile. Henry nodded almost imperceptibly and pushed up from where he’d been leaning on the table. Mike nodded back and grabbed Beth and Sammy’s hands. Charlie stepped forward and stood near them and partially in front, ready to shield them if need be.

“Kids,” said Mike. “This is your Grandpa Henry.” Sammy and Beth looked up at Henry’s ghost uncertainly. Henry was standing with his hands in his pockets; he somehow managed to look both awkward and arrogant at the same time. “Grandpa Henry,” Mike addressed him. Henry’s eyes snapped to him. “This is Elizabeth and Samuel. Beth and Sammy for short.”

Mike didn’t know what he had expected to happen once they were introduced—Henry crouching all of a sudden to the kids’ level and speaking to them in a kind and honest way didn’t seem likely—but he didn’t expect the expansive silence that followed. He had expected Henry to at least put on the pizzeria owner face and tone, an exaggeratedly high and loud voice, silly words, and inviting gestures. But he didn’t. Instead, he stood there with his hands in his pockets, staring down at them. Mike was about to say something else, just to break the excruciating silence, when Sammy broke away from him giggling, ran at Henry, and latched onto his leg.

All the adults jerked in reaction and even William looked ready to pry Sammy off if Henry lashed out. But luckily, because Henry was a ghost, there wasn’t much he could do to harm Sammy even if he had wanted to. And from the way he had taken a step back and braced himself against the table, it didn’t seem like he wanted to.

Henry’s ghostly essence rippled slightly as if in an unseen wind, the untucked shirttails of his plaid shirt swaying against his jeans. Mike was still amazed by how he and William didn’t have their mortal wounds anymore. To look at them, you wouldn’t think either of them had died traumatically, definitely not by a stabbing robot and a springlock suit. William looked much healthier since he had passed on in the garage last year and clearly whatever had gone on in the afterlife was good for him. Mike hoped the same was true for Henry.

When Henry saw that his grandchild wasn’t going to let go, he patted him stiffly on the back and slowly crouched to his level.

“I had a son named Samuel,” he said flatly, harshly. “You’re named after a dead child. Did you know that?”

Charlie made a move to pull Sammy away.

“Uh-huh,” said Sammy. Charlie paused. “Me and Beth both are. Mom and Dad told us.” He looked back at Elizabeth who was hanging off of William. “But the dead Elizabeth came back, so now there’s two of them.” Elizabeth gave him a thumbs up. He looked back at Henry and to everyone’s surprise, he patted the top of Henry’s head. “I’m sorry you lost your kid.”

Henry’s expression hadn’t changed, it was still a stern frown, but small trails of black liquid began seeping out from under his glasses. He removed his glasses and wiped them away with his thumb and forefinger before anyone saw. “I did some bad things before you were born,” he told Sammy, avoiding eye contact with Charlie. “But I’d like to be your grandfather if you…don’t mind.”

A bright smile of understanding slowly crawled onto Sammy’s face; he gave Henry the biggest hug he could manage with arms that didn’t reach all the way around his torso. “I don’t mind,” he said. Henry was stunned at first, but finally, awkwardly, he returned the hug.

Beth approached them. “Me neither,” she said. She crouched to their height and wrapped her arms cautiously around them. Sammy mentioned how cool it was that they had two ghost grandpas and Beth agreed. They hugged him tighter but ended up falling through him to the floor. Henry helped them up, asking if they were all right, but they just laughed, earning an introverted grin from Henry.

Mike held Charlie close, their fingers interlaced as they watched. William hovered nearby, grinning from ear to ear. “I told him he had to come with me,” he said, crossing his arms triumphantly. “He was worried you didn’t want to see him, but I-I said you did and that you already forgave him.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Charlie replied, eyes locked on her father. William’s smile faded and he said no more; he stepped away to give her and Mike space.

Mike was sad Charlie still felt uncomfortable around her father but he understood. It had taken a long time for Mike’s stomach to stop clenching, to stop waiting for William to snap and go on another killing spree. It had taken regular discussions and William having months of therapy with Jack before Mike could finally relax around him and see his odd behaviors—the shaking, the whiplash mood changes, his discomfort around sharp objects and other people’s children—as leftover trauma from a hard, self-destructive life rather than a warning sign that his violent tendencies were returning. Mike had seen William make progress slowly and with steady determination and it was that process that convinced Mike that William was now safe to be around.

Charlie didn’t have that with Henry. She had known him as a perfect, if overworked, father who would never hurt a fly, let alone kidnap, experiment on, and kill five children. He was perfect and then he was dead and Charlie’d had to find out about his murderous side from a suicide note and a police investigation. She hadn’t gotten closure, hadn’t found him in a rotting suit in a boarded-up horror attraction like they had with William; she hadn’t gotten to know her father after death. In fact, tonight was the first time she had talked to him since he had called her the night of his suicide to tell her he loved her.

As far as she knew, as far as any of them knew, Henry hadn’t changed at all. He was happy if a little stern with his grandchildren but he had been that way with Charlie, too, as well as with Mike and his siblings. He was a master of manipulation and honey-colored lies; if he could cover up an underground lab, pseudo-scientific experiments, and a string of child murders while giving interviews for nice write-ups in the local newspaper, he could hide anything.

The only person who might know the truth of Henry’s transformation or lack thereof was William. He knew Henry better than anyone and it seemed like they had spent a lot of time together in the afterlife. Mike needed to talk to him privately and Charlie needed time alone with Henry; she needed to get a read on him and if she deemed him safe, they needed to begin healing their relationship. But how to do that with a house full of nosey kids? Mike had an idea.

“Dad?” he said. William paused in his conversation with Elizabeth and looked up. “What do you think about coming trick-or-treating with me and the kids?”

“Yes, Daddy, please!” Elizabeth said, jumping up and down. “Come with us!” Beth and Sammy detached from Henry and joined in, begging William to come. William was obviously pleased with all the attention.

“Of course I’ll come!” he said, wrapping his arms around all three and lifting them an inch or so off the floor while George watched nearby. “We’ll both come.” He grinned at Henry. “Won’t we?” Henry had stepped back and his form was distorted by the kitchen light, as though he was preparing to disappear. George noticed his discomfort and left William and the others to go check on him.

“I’m fine,” Henry said quietly to George. “Not excited about going out where it’s loud and busy, away from the house. But,” he looked up at William. “if everyone wants to go, I guess I could—”

“Actually,” Mike cut him off as friendly as he could. “Charlie and I were thinking that Dad would come with me and the kids and then it might be nice for you and her to stay here and catch up.” Charlie gave Mike a long, confused look. Mike leaned over to whisper in her ear. “We’ll only be a couple hours,” he said. “If I talk to my dad and you talk to yours, maybe by the time we get back, we’ll know whether or not he’s safe.”

“He’s not,” Charlie whispered back. “But you’re right. Better to do this without the kids around, just in case.” She sighed and squeezed Mike’s hand, in comfort or punishment he couldn’t tell. “You owe me one.”

“He might surprise you,” Mike said.

Charlie smiled sadly. “He already did.” She pulled free from Mike and stepped forward, head held high. “Dad,” she said sternly, the word heavy on her tongue. “Want to help me clean up while they’re gone? Then we can talk.”

That tone of voice had scared William when she used it on him; it had made him clam up and retreat as if he expected her to hit him. But with Henry, his face brightened up and his cold, disdainful expression softened into hope. He stood a little taller like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Charlie was his family, his home, and this was the most comfortable he had been all night. 

“I’d like that, Charlotte,” he replied in the same matter-of-fact voice she had used.

Mike dressed into an old ratty hoodie, a pair of ripped, muddy jeans, and put patches of red paint on his face and hands in a lazy attempt at a zombie costume. Charlie said it wasn’t funny but laughed anyway. Beth put on the final layer of her skirt, Sammy strapped two foam swords to his belt, and Elizabeth draped a white, faux fur shrug over her shoulders. Charlie distributed the plastic jack-o-lantern candy baskets that had been drying on the rack by the sink.

George watched this all happen quietly and, while he’d never say anything, it was clear Mike’s little brother wanted to go trick-or-treating for real, too. Mike cut two eye holes in a white sheet from the linen closet, dug a fourth candy basket out of the garage, and gave both to George. George looked up at Mike like he was surprised Mike had guessed what he had been thinking, then happily put on the sheet. As long as nobody realized there were no legs sticking out from under the sheet, George looked like any other trick-or-treater.

Mike gave Charlie a hug and a kiss, said, “You got this,” and told her to give him a call if anything happened that made her want him to come back, anything at all. Charlie agreed and wished him luck with William.

“Ready to go, Dad?” Mike asked.

William and Henry had been standing close together whispering. William gave Henry a quick, awkward hug, told him to have fun and promised him everything would be fine, then hurried to join Mike and the kids; there was no hiding how excited he was. Even so, William looked back at Henry four times before the door was finally shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give William a candy basket, Mike, you know he wants one. It's dark out and no one is going to notice a candy basket floating on its own.
> 
> I'm excited to be back in the world of Adorable and Fluffy and I hope you are too! This was meant to be a one-shot, but it was getting too long, so I had to split it into chapters. This will probably be 2-3 chapters total.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	2. Hot Cocoa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Mention of suicide

William couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he walked down the street with his family, holding Elizabeth’s hand and swinging their arms in sync. They had had a successful night of trick-or-treating so far. Each of the kids had gotten their baskets nearly full already and they had only walked a few blocks.

Even so, there were children everywhere laughing and screaming and William felt the old phantom cables catching fire in his brain. He remembered how much time he had spent as a ghost on earth developing coping strategies and managing his environment so his old violent thoughts wouldn’t be triggered. He had gotten out of practice. He squeezed Elizabeth’s hand.

Elizabeth noticed and looked up at him. “You okay, Daddy?” she asked.

Michael looked back, confused and then concerned. “Shoot, Dad,” he said. “I didn’t think about the other kids. Do you want to go home?”

William looked at his grandchildren, at his children. He remembered back to his work with Jack. “No,” he said. “I’m all right. Just taken off guard, but I’m fine now.” He smiled to convince them as he tried to stop his muscles from shaking before Elizabeth detected it. They aren’t a threat, and neither am I, he told himself. I have people who support and love me. I’m in control of myself. “Where to next?”

As they walked to the next house, the streetlights created pools of yellow on the dark sidewalks and every time they passed underneath one, William’s body nearly disappeared. It flashed in and out of existence, reminding him every ten feet that he was both part of this family and not.

In the end, he was just visiting and when the sun rose, he would say goodbye and return to the place he was required to spend his afterlife. It wasn’t a place of punishment like he had feared, but it wasn’t heaven, either. It was a different place full of challenges and growing pains. It felt like school more than anything else. Sometimes, he revisited scenes from his own life: birthday parties of his children, moving to America, the death of his father. Other times, he encountered new challenges. He was graded on what he did in each situation.

One time, William came upon a puppy with its foot caught in a sewer grate. He stopped and helped it get loose, of course, and then the puppy led him to a child with his leg caught in a bear trap. He helped him out, too, but then the child took his wallet, teased him, and said he’d have to fight him to get it back. That one was harder, but William remembered what Jack and Michael had taught him; he took a deep breath and spoke calmly to the child, and the child gave his wallet back.

Another time, a woman he didn’t know approached him and asked how he was doing; after that, she told him how he was doing. “Below average but showing improvement.” He asked what he was being graded on but he didn’t understand her answer. Sometimes there were no tests at all. Sometimes he was alone, completely, maddeningly alone, but maybe that was a test, in itself. Sometimes he was with Henry or George or both. He asked them about their tests. “They keep giving me the same ones,” said Henry. “I guess they don’t like my answers.” George shook his head. “They give the kinds of tests they do for a reason.” George had tests, too, but harder ones and not as frequently.

When all three of them had a day free from testing, they traveled. They could go anywhere in the world in the blink of an eye. They could travel anywhere at all except places they had spent too much time in when alive. It was like the time they spent had created a fog that obscured those places. “It’s so we don’t get reattached and distracted,” George had explained but William thought it was unusually cruel. Why would he want to travel to Sao Paulo or New Mexico when everyone he loved was right there in Colorado?

One day, they were visiting Niagara Falls, sitting together on the edge of the falls and George turned to William. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you this so soon,” said George out of the blue. “There’s a way to visit our family for real. But it only happens once a year.” When George told him about the available yearly vacation to earth, William’s days suddenly regained their purpose. He vowed to see his family, no matter what. And if there was some way to not have to return to the afterworld, he would find it.

“Jack lives down this street,” said Michael.

William shook out of his musing and looked up. He read the street sign. Clover Street. He didn’t realize they had walked so far. Jack’s house was right there on the corner, all decked out with glowing candy corn walkway lights and cloth ghosts in the trees and shrubs. It occurred to William how little those cute, amorphous ghosts resembled real ghosts, but he guessed just putting out monochrome pictures of normal-looking people with hollow eyes and a bit of goo wasn’t as festive.

“I thought he’d like to see you,” said Michael. “That is, if you wanted to—”

“Yes,” said William. He squeezed Elizabeth’s hand. “Very much.”

Mike nodded in approval and rang the doorbell. It rang through the little house and William pictured Jack sitting in the living room reading a book and sipping on black coffee. Or maybe he was already in bed and the ring had woken him up. Or maybe he wasn’t even home. He worked at a restaurant, after all, and restaurants were always extra busy on holidays. Freddy’s had had William and Henry running from dawn until way past dusk with nonstop parties and more kids in one day than they had seen spread over a week. Was Jack even still working at the restaurant anymore? It had been nearly a year. He might have even moved.

The door unlocked from inside and pulled open. Standing there in the doorway was a werewolf with fluffy red hair, the reddest he had ever seen. All of William’s misgivings melted away.

“Trick or treat!” the kids announced, shoving their baskets at Jack.

“If it isn’t the Schmidts!” Jack greeted with a smile, a gap between his fangs. “Or, sorry, a motley crew of dinosaurs, princesses, spacemen, and ghosts. I have some candy for you here, just…” He looked up and spotted William.

“Will,” he said, shocked. He smiled, looking relieved and delighted and like he really meant it. He handed the candy bowl to Beth and walked through the crowd of kids to William. “Is it okay to hug you?” he asked.

William wrapped his arms around him and squeezed him tight. Jack laughed in surprise. “It’s so great to see you,” said Jack. “You look great. All those scars healed over there, didn’t they?”

William laughed awkwardly. “I guess,” he said. “I’ve missed you. You’re looking great, too.” He fluffed up some of the faux fur on Jack’s shoulder. “Hairier than normal, though.”

Jack fluffed up the hair on his cheeks and posed. William laughed in delight and hugged him again. Jack saw Mike over William’s shoulder.

“Hi, Mike,” he said, extending his hand.

Mike shook it. “Nice to see you, Jack. Great costume.”

“Thanks. You too,” said Jack. “I’m going to guess…quarterback? With the hat and the jacket?”

“Zombie,” said Mike. “I put blood on my face and everything.” He motioned to the small splats of red paint in liquid motions as though he were showing them off on a cosmetics commercial.

“Oh!” Jack laughed again. “I see, I see. Very nice.”

William introduced Jack to George and, as expected, Jack treated George like he had known him his whole life. He knelt to his height and introduced himself and asked him about his hobbies, as though George was a regular, living child.

“Do you folks want to come in for some hot chocolate?” asked Jack as he got to his feet again.

Elizabeth tugged on William’s arm. “Daddy, can we?” she asked.

William looked at Mike. “It’s up to your brother,” he said.

Mike shrugged. “It’s up to you, Dad,” he said. “It’s your night.”

William scanned the faces of his grandchildren, looking for any sign that they wanted to move on. He didn’t find one. “Well,” he said, “If…if the kids don’t mind, yes, I’d…I’d like that.”

Jack smiled approvingly, almost proudly. It was only then that William remembered that had been one of the skills they had worked on together: asking permission rather than doing whatever reckless thing popped into his head without thinking of how it might affect others. Back then, he wouldn’t have forced his family to stop trick or treating to have hot chocolate with his friend, though, not even at his worst, would he? He’d never hijacked his children’s parties and hobbies for his own gain, had he?

It only took a moment of reflection to remember that, yes, he had. He had forced his kids to hand out Fazbear flyers at sleepovers, made them have their birthdays at Freddy’s instead of at the park or go-kart track like they wanted, made Mike watch his siblings while William stayed out late drinking on school nights; Mike had fed them and made sure they got their homework done. That’s probably why he’s such a good father, William thought darkly.

Jack led them into the house and went through to the kitchen. Elizabeth and the other kids went in to help, chatting and laughing loudly as they got out the cups and spoons. William caught Mike’s hand before he went in and stopped him in the entryway.

“Mike, I’m sorry,” he said.

Mike smiled uncomfortably. “For what, Dad?” he asked.

William looked at the floor, fidgeted with a button on his shirt. “For what I did to you and your siblings growing up. It was wrong and selfish. I was a bad father.”

Mike’s smile faded into concern. “You weren’t a bad father,” he said. “No one’s perfect. We knew you loved us and you were doing your best. That’s the most important thing.”

William shook his head. “No,” he said. “No, I need you to understand that I understand what I did, all right? And that I’m truly, truly sorry.”

Mike hesitated, not sure what to do. His guard of easy friendliness went down and William saw in his eyes that there was hurt in there, deep down, hurt that had stunted his progress. “I understand, Dad,” he said quietly. He gave him a hug. “And I forgive you.”

William exhaled long into Mike’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he said.

“Why are you thinking about all this tonight?” asked Mike.

“Seeing you interact with your kids,” William replied. He sniffed, felt the black tears beginning. “It reminds me how bad I treated my own.”

“Hey, come on, that’s enough,” Mike pulled out of the embrace and held William at arm’s length so he could look him in the eye. “No more of that talk. You did your best and we turned out okay. Okay?”

“You all turned out dead,” said William. “Or some form of it.” He wiped his eyes.

“We also turned out kind,” said Mike. “And responsible. Look at Elizabeth and George. They’re both intelligent and brave and compassionate. That’s something they learned from you.”

William wiped his eyes again. “Okay, I’ll stop talking about it.”

“I don’t want you to stop talking,” said Mike, “I want you to understand.”

“Okay.”

“You did your best, Dad.”

“Okay, I-I understand.” William didn’t want to argue anymore. Arguing made him feel like a caged animal dodging a sharp stick and he would say anything, true or not, just to make it stop.

“Good,” said Mike. “Come on. Let’s see what Jack’s up to.”

William followed him to the kitchen. He was starting to shake; he felt it vibrating in his ribs. He crossed his arms tightly across his chest and that helped a little.

The children were sitting at the table with mugs, spoons, and hot cocoa toppings while Jack stirred a pot of cocoa on the stove. George had taken off his sheet and hung it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. He stuck close to Elizabeth and Elizabeth asked him nonstop questions about the afterlife: if heaven existed and if it did, if there were dogs there, if they had to sneak out to come to earth or if God sent them on a mission, and if when she went to heaven she could be an angel with pink wings.

George answered everything he could and he talked confidently and kindly, somehow explaining that heaven wasn’t quite like that without sending Elizabeth into an existential crisis. Existentialism loses its shock once you’re dead, but some things are still shocking and unnerving, like finding out the things you do on earth matter but not in the way you think. That there wasn’t a nice and naughty list with a kindly grandfather watching over it, giving the good kids presents and the bad kids coal. That good and bad was a spectrum that bled into one another. But George managed to say none of that. He let her keep her pink angel wing hope for now.

Jack glanced over his shoulder as he stirred. “There they are,” he said, smiling. “Elizabeth and George are going to have a cup. Do you want one?”

William said yes and Michael said no.

“You can have one, Dad,” said Mike. “But I don’t need one. No drinking for me.”

“There’s more about hot chocolate than just drinking it,” said Jack. “And there’s plenty if you’d like something to warm your fingers.”

“Come on, Dad!” said Beth. “Yeah, come on!” Sammy chimed in. Mike finally sighed and sat at the table.

“Fine,” he chuckled. “Fine. Only if you promise to put it in the fridge for later.”

“Scout’s honor,” Jack said solemnly.

They all sat at the table with their hot chocolate. The kids decorated their drinks with dollops of whipped cream and confetti sprinkles. Elizabeth helped William decorated his and Mike dropped a few sprinkles into his own cup to make Jack happy. They talked about a lot of nothing: their days, the best Halloween decorations they had seen in the neighborhood, what Jack had been up to over the last year. The Schmidts and Jack had stayed in contact even after William had passed over. He had come over for various lunches and dinners and accompanied them to the park, the movies, and the county fair.

As William stirred his insubstantial finger in his hot chocolate, his insides ached. How he’d missed things like this. He mentioned Henry in passing but didn’t talk about him much. He wasn’t ashamed of him but Henry felt like part of a reality that was different than the one Jack inhabited. He didn’t like the idea of the two realities mixing. Because the reality with Henry was so dark, William worried that if they weren’t kept separate, the old reality would bleed into and taint the new one, until they were both dark, with no room for uncomplicated hot chocolate with friends.

William knew he wasn’t being fair to his old business partner, though. Henry had a lot to work through from his life but he was working through it. He had been the one to explain to William how the afterlife worked and told him not to be afraid when the tests started to happen, when he found himself alone and whisked away to impossible situations. Henry cared about him in his own way and he was trying his best to fix things and get better. It wasn’t fair for William to criticize him for not being Jack.

Jack asked a few polite questions about how William and George’s life had been in the afterworld so far but he had met enough ghosts that he knew not to ask too many questions. “It’s been good,” William answered. “I feel good, I think. It’s hard to explain.”

Jack nodded, understanding, and left it at that. The talk went to Beth and Sammy’s recent school projects but William couldn’t stop thinking about the afterlife, the tests. In less than ten hours, he would have to return and leave his family behind. He wasn’t sure he could do that again; he had barely been able to do it the first time.

The thought occurred to him that maybe this yearly earthly visit program was a test, itself, one to see if he would do the right thing and leave as promised. But William was tired of doing the right thing; it required so much effort and only left him exhausted and sad. All he wanted to do was curl up with his family, Henry and Jack, watch cartoons and never move again. He would be a ghost that haunts the same house and the same family forever. Was that so awful?

He stood up suddenly, making the cups and spoons rattle. Everyone looked up in concern; William didn’t want them to be concerned.

“I—” he started. He couldn’t stop shaking. “I’m going to get some fresh air.” His voice hopped around, manic as a rabbit. “I’ll be right back. Keep talking. I-I’m fine.”

Before anyone could stop him, he strode back through the house and went out onto the porch. He found a corner by a plastic cauldron that the streetlight didn’t reach and wedged himself between it and the railing. He put his head in his hands and counted his breaths.

The front door opened and William heard mechanical footsteps on the porch.

“Daddy?” called Elizabeth. William didn’t answer. He wiped his face quietly and tried to pull himself together. Her glowing eyes bathed him in a purple glow and she picked her way through the Halloween decorations, around the witch and scarecrow and hay bales, until she was face to face with him. She crouched to his level.

“Why are you out here?” she asked. “Did Jack make you sad?”

William wiped his face with his hands more vigorously and struggled it into a smile. “No, sweetie,” he said. “No, of course not. Jack’s one of my closest friends and I’m so glad I got to see him tonight.”

“He made us sad,” said Elizabeth as she sat down.

William was taken aback. He wiped his face one more time and leaned forward. “Why is that?” he asked.

Elizabeth’s mechanical fingers fiddled with a ruffle in her dress. “Talking about the afterlife. Saying it’s good you left. That he’s proud of you and stuff.”

William nodded silently.

“It isn’t good you left,” she continued. “Everyone was very sad. And we cried a lot.” She stared William straight in the eye. Her purple eyes were glowing brighter and, through her dress, the other eyes were glowing, too: pink, blue, green. She was made up of multiple animatronics, all treated with remnant, and William wondered if she felt any other souls within her. “We were left out.”

“Left out?” William repeated. “That doesn’t sound like Beth and Sammy.”

“Not Beth and Sammy,” said Elizabeth. She kicked the cauldron. “You. Left out by you. We are both dead, both ghosts, but you left. And you left us here.”

A group of children dressed as old fashioned ghosts with white sheets over their heads walked past, chatting happily with each other. They swung their jack-o-lantern baskets and the candy rattled inside.

“You wanted to come with me?” William asked softly. Elizabeth avoided eye contact and kicked the cauldron again. “Did…you still want to come with me?”

Elizabeth was quiet for a long time.

“We can’t,” she said finally. Her electronic voice wavered and crackled like frayed wires. “We’re stuck. We’re trapped forever, Daddy. We’re trapped.”

William wrapped his arms around her and stroked the back of her woven cable head. He pulled her into his lap and rocked her slowly as she hiccuped into his shoulder.

“Shh,” he said. “We’ll figure it out.” A plan began forming, and as he stared out into the night, his will hardened like cement. “Daddy will fix this.”

—

When Henry had pictured what it would be like to reunite with his adult daughter, he hadn’t expected hugs and kisses but he had at least expected there to be more talking. As it was, he and Charlie hadn’t said anything since William and the others had left. Henry sat silently at the breakfast table while Charlie silently stuffed crafting feathers back into their crinkly package.

He used to watch Charlie putter through the house cleaning up spilled apple juice and puzzle pieces, back before William had re-entered their lives. He had watched her almost since the day he had died. He had spent a few years trapped in his old house, in the garage where he had killed himself, watching the police tear it apart looking for the missing children. Even though he had tried to pin the murders on William, the investigators still suspected he’d had something to do with them.

Once he was able to detach from his old house, he found himself pulled like a magnet against his will to Charlie. He didn’t even have time to check on the underground lab. The moment he let go of the house, he was flung to Utah like a rocket, like a taut rubber band that had finally been released. He saw her grow up, raised by his cold but kind older sister. He saw Charlie and Michael Afton—changed to Schmidt—start dating, marry, and start a family.

He always wondered why Charlie could never see or hear him. It had been frustrating and he had always felt that, by being stuck watching his family move on without him instead of being able to do what he had planned with his afterlife—inhabiting an immortal mechanical body and continuing his experiments forever—he was wasting his time.

When William moved in with them, a dead body in a decrepit animatronic suit, things got messy, as they always did with William. All of a sudden, not only was Henry bored and unfulfilled, he was also jealous. Even though William was sure to destroy Charlie and Mike’s hard-won life, he was still able to interact with them, watch movies with them, make breakfast with them. He didn’t deserve it. Unlike Henry, William hadn’t planned anything and he’d gotten everything. He hadn’t planned how to inhabit a suit or reconnect with his family or escape Fazbear’s, but somehow he had stumbled into it anyway.

William was the luckiest, most pathetic bastard on earth and Henry hated him for it. However, even though William always failed, destroyed everything he touched, he never stopped trying, whether because of stubbornness or stupidity. Because of this, regardless of how little he deserved it, William continued to move forward while Henry found himself stuck.

Tonight, Henry had decided to swallow his inhibitions and take a page out of William’s book; he decided to try to reconnect, even though he knew he was doomed to fail. Now he was sitting in the kitchen twiddling his thumbs and Charlie hadn’t spoken or looked at him for half an hour. This was ridiculous. Just another waste of his time. This would be the last time he trusted William’s intuition.

“Sorry for the intrusion, Charlotte,” said Henry. He stood up, meaning to go wait in the garage until William and George were ready to leave. “This was a mistake.” He took a step.

“No,” said Charlie suddenly. She was standing with her arms full of tutus and foam swords. “I’m sorry. I said we’d talk but we haven’t.”

She dumped the costumes over the back of the couch and approached the table. She swept the sequins to the side and sat down. Henry hovered nearby, one hand on the back of the chair, an eye on the garage door. It seemed like only yesterday that he and William had sat in there plotting how to break their supernatural attachment to the house. He sat back down at the table.

“I should have said something first,” he said. “But I didn’t know what to say.” He squeezed his hands together under the table. “Just ‘sorry’ doesn’t seem appropriate.”

“That’s the problem.” Charlie looked at her hands in her lap. “It isn’t.”

Henry looked away, looked at the garage door. He tried to think of a response—any response—but his mind was tied in knots and he couldn’t even wrestle free an affirmative grunt. Charlie was quiet, too. She swept green and blue sequins into a pile on the table with her fingers. Henry noticed some on his side and he pushed them over to her, one at a time.

“So,” said Henry. “You call Will ‘Dad’ now.”

“He’s my father-in-law,” Charlie replied.

“I know,” said Henry. He pinched one of the sequins and bent it in half. “I just…I was surprised, is all.”

“Why would you be surprised?” Charlie asked flatly. Henry shrugged. “You don’t think he deserves it,” she said.

“You didn’t like him when he was alive,” said Henry, “And you hated him when he was dead. You weren’t happy when Mike brought him home.”

“Mike and I both decided to bring him home,” said Charlie. “We believed it was the right thing to do, and it was.”

“Caused a lot of damage, though,” said Henry. “Poor Michael. Willy took the wonderful, peaceful home you two built and trashed it.” He chuckled unkindly and sought out another sequin. “But what could you really expect, I guess. That’s Will.”

Charlie took the sequin from him. She scooped the rest into the bag, tied it closed with a rubber band and dropped it onto the wood floor.

“Don’t pretend like everything that happened when I was a kid was all William,” she said. “You are just as responsible. And why are we talking about William, anyway?”

“I know I’m responsible,” Henry said firmly. “They were all my ideas. The good ones, anyway. I’m not saying I’m blameless, I’m just saying I’m surprised you forgave William so quickly.”

Charlie crossed her arms and leaned back in the chair. She kept him fixed in her steady gaze. It felt like glaring at himself in the mirror. “And?” she prodded.

Henry was caught off guard. He wasn’t used to being challenged. “And what?” he asked.

“I’m not one of your customers. I know there’s more to that statement.”

He sighed. “ _And_ ,” he consented. “I’m finding it hard to figure out why _he_ got your forgiveness while you’re still treating me like some dangerous stranger.”

“Dad,” she said. To have her call him ‘dad’ again sent chills up his spine. It put a lump in his throat but crying was for the weak and foolish so he swallowed it back down. He waited for her to finish, but she didn’t; she just glared at him.

“What?” he asked.

“Don’t play dumb—”

“I—”

“Or treat me like I’m dumb—”

“Never. I would _never_.”

“You know why things are more strained between us than they are between me and William.”

Henry was silent. He stared down at the table, lips pressed together in a thin line. “He did such horrible things, Charlotte,” he said. “I did too, but he was worse. He did things out of boredom and spite. I never wanted to do anything more than what our experiments required, but William, he was so cruel to those kids, he—”

“And we’re talking about William again,” said Charlie. She leaned forward. “I want to talk about you, Dad. About us. William earned my trust because he kept trying to do better, even when it was hard and he kept failing. It took a lot of time and a lot of talking and hard work. But he showed progress. _That’s_ why I call him Dad. _That’s_ why he’s out trick-or-treating with my children.”

Henry leaned back in his chair. He didn’t want to look her in the eye anymore.

“I know you and I don’t have that kind of time,” said Charlie. “I just…” She took his ghostly hands in hers. “I’m looking for any sign that you’ve changed for the better. That you understand and you’re trying. But…” She trailed off, as though she had said more than she meant to and cut herself off short. She squeezed his hands.

Henry’s cheeks burned with humiliation. He lifted his hands through hers. “You don’t have to say it,” he said as he stood.

“Dad, come on,” Charlie said.

“I see my effort is wasted here.”

Charlie didn’t ask him to sit back down. When she looked up, she had tears in her eyes. The conversation was over. Henry turned and walked through the kitchen and into the dark garage.

Charlie and Mike had moved William’s bed and bookshelf out and moved the lawnmower and yard supplies back in. How quickly they erased all traces of him, thought Henry. How quickly everyone moved on. He found a dark corner behind a row of standing shelves. He sat down behind them, hoping the shelves would obscure his glow. Maybe it was time for him to move on, too, and stop bothering his family. It was clear that the only one who wanted him around anymore was William.

Henry wanted to end this useless visit and return to his endless futile tests, but he didn’t know how. George was the only one who knew how to create a portal to the afterworld. He rested his head against the wall, removed his glasses, and wiped pesky black tears away. Dawn couldn’t come soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiding in dark corners instead of dealing with your problems: that's the Fazbear way.
> 
> Happy early Halloween! I said this would be 2-3 chapters, but I can't see this ending in the next chapter. Let's call it 5 chapters-ish. ;)


	3. No Time

William and Elizabeth sat outside together and talked until Mike came out to check on them. He asked if they were okay and after a bit of deliberating, they said they were. They went inside and sat at the table again. They finished their hot chocolate and talked about what was next on the night’s agenda. Jack admitted he didn’t have any more plans and would probably just watch a movie and go to bed. The kids booed playfully, which made William crack a smile, the first one since he and Elizabeth had talked.

“You should come over!” said Beth.

“Yeah come over!” echoed Sammy. “And see my room. It’s all decorated!”

“Guys,” chided Michael. “If he’s tired, we should let him go to bed.” He stifled a yawn. “You can see Jack whenever you want. But your…your Grandpa Henry—” The words were hard to get out. “—I’m sure he’ll want to spend quality alone time getting to know you.”

“No,” William spoke like a reflex, before he meant to and more strongly than he meant to. Everyone went quiet and looked at him, concerned. He felt protective, selfish, a little paranoid. He felt like he was betraying Henry. Henry had come tonight for the express purpose of meeting his grandchildren. Who was William to deny him that? But when he looked into his grandchildren’s faces so innocent, so confident, no wounds yet from the world, he couldn’t let it happen.

Whatever his intention, Henry’s words were caustic and if he spent too much time with them alone, he would hurt them. William knew he needed to let Henry at least try to reconnect like he’d promised, but when he saw his grandchildren speaking so freely with Jack, confident that they were loved and that their opinions mattered, he couldn’t. He just couldn’t let them learn the lessons Henry would teach them, the ones Henry had taught him early and frequently.

William cleared his throat and smoothed out the wrinkles in his shirt. “What I mean is, I thought it’d be good for H-Henry to, um, to meet Jack.” Michael wasn’t convinced. “Really,” William continued. “I-I’ve told Henry so much about you, Jack, a-and our visit would be incomplete if he didn’t get to see you.”

Jack looked between William and Michael. He gave a thin smile. William could never fool him, especially not when it came to pretending he was happy.

“Will,” he said softly. “Would you come with me to the bedroom for a second?”

William’s heart lurched and adrenaline shot through his phantom veins. He clenched his hands tight. “S-sure,” he said. “Yeah. Okay.”

He followed Jack down the short hallway to his small bedroom. Pillows and blankets were scattered around an unmade bed. Clothes lay in small heaps, black work shirts mixed in with t-shirts and bath towels. It was clear he didn’t have people in his bedroom often, nor had he expected to anytime soon.

Jack closed the door and sat on the bed. He patted the spot next to him and William sat, too. He turned to face William, looked into his eyes bravely and honestly.

“How are you feeling?” asked Jack. It sounded like a casual question, but it wasn’t; it was the foundation of William’s healing, the practice that had jumpstarted his numb heart and gotten him to start feeling and expressing himself again in a way that didn’t scare everyone around him.

William waited a moment before answering, waiting for the mania to settle so he could find himself underneath.

“I’m, uh,” he said. He looked at his lap, picked at his fingers. “I-I’m worried.”

“Worried?” asked Jack. William nodded. “About what?”

“Don’t know,” said William. “I can’t t-think straight.”

Jack reached out and took his hand. He smiled encouragingly.

William wiped his nose. “Okay, um, okay. I’m—I’m a little…concerned that, in bringing Henry here, I may have…destroyed everything. Again.”

Jack had the audacity to laugh. William shot him a glare but it didn’t faze him.

“That’s quite a leap,” said Jack. “Why do you feel that way?”

William shrugged. He saw motion on the wall by the dresser. He thought at first it might have been the shadow of the curtain’s projected there, but as he stared at the rippling light, a head turned and two hollow eyes looked at him.

“Why do you feel like the act of bringing Henry means you’ve destroyed everything?” Jack asked.

“You’ve got another ghost in here,” said William.

“What?”

William pointed and Jack followed his finger to the wall. “Oh,” said Jack. “Yeah, that’s Alisha. She died here way back when. She’s still a little scattered. Just pulled out of her death state this summer.”

William looked around the room and saw that the shadowy curtain-like apparition was scattered around the room, stuck on the ceiling fan, floating on the carpet, snagged on the closet door. He looked back to her eyes: so sad, so confused, looking like it took a concentrated effort to sew together any thought more complicated than “Help.”

William knew the feeling well. In some ways, he felt like his time spent stuck in a rabbit suit sealed behind a wall in Freddy’s was lifetimes ago. In other ways, it felt like only yesterday.

“You’re helping her?” William asked.

“Trying to,” said Jack. He turned his smiling face to the ghost on the wall. “And we’re making progress, aren’t we, Alisha?” Alisha didn’t respond, didn’t even blink. “It’s hard, right at the beginning of re-consciousness,” said Jack. “As I’m sure you’re familiar with.”

“Extremely,” William said. “And it gets harder when you’re lucid enough to start regretting things.”

Jack nodded. “She hasn’t gotten there yet, I don’t think. But it’s coming soon.” He turned to William. “Any advice for when it happens?”

William thought back to the moment of his own revelation, when he went from a tightly wound ball of hatred and fear to remembering who he had been before his imprisonment and what he had lost. Blind murderous rage had been easier to deal with, so he had tried to shove his memories back down and put all his energy into stalking and killing the night guards. But even when he was comfortably evil, nothing but a mindless malevolent spirit, his acts of violence felt like revenge from a place of deep hurt.

Once he had remembered his past life, he couldn’t forget. What might have eased that pain? he pondered. If anyone had gotten too close, he’d have killed them; he might have even ended up killing Michael if he had found him a decade earlier than he had.

“Space,” William answered. “Lots of it. She’s going to be very angry, probably, once she remembers how she died and feels the weight of it.” William remembered how, when his anger had subsided enough to let him come up for air, grief and regret had pulled him back down again. Loneliness had chipped away at his sanity and threatened to do so for eternity with no relief in sight.

“But she’ll be fine eventually,” William continued. “She has you. If…if I had had someone like you back then, well, maybe it wouldn’t have taken me thirty years.”

Jack rubbed William’s hand. “Everyone goes at their own pace,” he said. William set his other hand on top and cupped Jack’s gently, like it was something precious and fragile. Alisha stared at them unseeing from the corner. She grasped at the wall like she was looking for something.

William took a deep, airless breath. “Henry,” he said, then paused. Jack squeezed his hand, encouraging him to continue. “Henry can be…unkind.” William looked up at Jack, hoping he had understood the insinuation, so he wouldn’t have to elaborate.

“We haven’t talked much about Henry,” said Jack. “I know he’s Charlie’s father,” William nodded. “your business partner.” Nod. “And you’ve never said it outright, but I suspect that he had something to do with the murders.”

William didn’t nod again; he just stared at Jack, trying to steady himself before speaking.

Jack frowned. “It’s more personal than that, isn’t it?” he asked.

Two silent tears cut through William’s face.

“Oh Will,” Jack said softly. He carefully wrapped his arm around his shoulders and scooted closer. “What happened?”

William dabbed his eyes with his sleeve. “He…” William couldn’t get the words out, couldn’t make himself speak ill of Henry. The old loyalties ran deep and even though they had nothing left to lose, no secrets worth protecting, William still felt like a traitor for even thinking bad thoughts about his old friend. But he had to get the message across to Jack that Henry wasn’t like other people, wasn’t even like William.

Henry could get under a person’s skin and control them, make them feel like they owed him, like his time and attention was a sacrifice that he was making out of the goodness of his heart so the recipient had better be thankful. And with William, it had been more than that. He’d wanted all his attention, only his, exclusively and forever. He’d kill someone just to get Henry to smile at him, praise him, touch him; and he had, multiple times. He would have continued to do so if the ghost children hadn’t stopped him. Because he had needed him, or at least he thought he did.

“He, um,” William tried again, “said and did things that were… R-reality was relative with him. There wasn’t any right or wrong, just what made him mad a-and what didn’t.” He fidgeted with the bedspread. “I was incompetent. Couldn’t trust myself, so I…I looked to him to tell me which way was up. He made me feel bad, but he also made me feel happy, you know? Sometimes. He was the only one who saw me as a person, not just a swirling mass of responsibilities and stress. I-I wanted things, too, a-and he understood that. I had so much rage back then and he gave me direction.”

He stopped and Jack didn’t respond right away. They stared silently out the window together, the sound of children trick-or-treating floated in from the street. Jack rubbed William’s arm.

“It sounds to me,” he said carefully, “like Henry was aware of your weaknesses and exploited them.”  
  
William shot Jack a look, shocked he’d say something so callous. “He’s just a strong personality,” he said. “And he had a plan when I didn’t. I went along with him willingly. Happily, even."  
  
“Were you happy?” asked Jack.

“Yes,” William answered emphatically, but the word tasted sour. “Maybe,” he amended. “I think so. He was my best friend. Still is.”

Jack pushed a hand through his hair. “I’ve gotta say, Will, the way he treated you doesn’t sound like friendship.”

William frowned. “Nobody’s perfect.”

“A friend shouldn’t force you to become something else,” said Jack. “They should love you just the way you are. And if there’s growth to be done, you grow together.” William looked away. Jack patted his hand. “I don’t mean to be harsh,” he said. “And I know it’s hard to hear, but maybe spending eternity with him isn’t what’s best for you.”

William broke eye contact. He pulled his hand out of Jack’s and turned to face the window. He could hear Michael talking in the kitchen, he could hear Elizabeth’s electronic little girl voice—his little girl, forever. He heard Beth and Sammy. He didn’t hear George because George was a quiet kid, but he knew he was still there, listening, enjoying everything.

“I’m all he has,” William said quietly, almost too quietly to hear. Jack didn’t respond right away and William thought he might not have heard him. But when he turned around to check, the look on Jack’s face revealed that he had. “He was the first…m-my first…” William cleared his throat and blushed. “His family’s gone except Charlie. Proper gone. We don’t know where they are. If they’re alive or not. I’m all he has left and I-I can’t abandon him.”

“But,” said Jack. “You deserve happiness, too.”

William didn’t respond. Jack let it go.

“It sounded like you’re worried about his influence on your grandchildren,” said Jack.

William searched Jack’s eyes desperately. “Does that make me cruel?” he asked. “They’re his grandchildren, too.”

Jack scooted closer. He hugged William tight, the way he knew comforted him. “You’re not cruel,” he whispered.

“I am,” William said into Jack’s shoulder.

“Cruel people don’t worry that they’re cruel,” said Jack. “Trust me. You’re a good person.”

William’s chest hitched and he felt more black tears coming. “Sorry,” he squeaked. “Dammit.”

“Don’t sweat it,” said Jack. “Crying is good. Natural.”

“Nothing’s…more honest, huh?” William said. It felt like decades since their first conversation in the coffee shop.

Jack laughed at hearing himself quoted back to him. “Exactly.” He loosened his grip and held him at arm’s length so he could look him in the eye. “Do you still want me to come meet Henry?” he asked.

William wiped his tears away. “If—If it’s not too much trouble.” He looked at Alisha. “If you’re not too busy.”

Jack followed his gaze. “I can go with you,” he said. “For a little while.”

William thanked him. “If you could just talk with Henry for a little bit alone, I know you could help him. Like you helped me.”

“I can do that,” said Jack. “And you helped me, too, you know. I was really lonely before I met you.” He put his hands in William’s. “I missed you a lot.”

“I missed you more.”

They stayed like that for another couple moments, holding hands in the soft yellow street light and staring into each other’s eyes. Before William realized what he was doing, he started leaning in.

Suddenly, Henry’s bewildered, disgusted face flashed in his mind and put a pit in his stomach. He started to pull back but before he could, Jack leaned forward and pecked him on the lips.

William froze. He squeezed Jack’s hands and began to shake. But Jack didn’t look offended or disgusted; he just smiled on with that soft confidence. Maybe wanting was okay sometimes, William thought, even for him. Jack leaned in once more and William leaned in to meet him. Jack kissed him again to assure him the first one wasn’t an accident.

“I-I…” William stammered.

Jack looked concerned. “Is…this okay?” he asked.

William touched his own lips, stunned. He laughed. “I’d hoped,” he said. “I hoped for this so much, but I didn’t know.”

“I wasn’t sure either,” chuckled Jack. “But I decided to take a chance.”

“A chance,” William murmured. How nice it felt to have a chance.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since last year,” said Jack. “When Mike told me you had passed on, I was happy for you but I kicked myself because I thought I’d wasted my chance. I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.” He rested his cheek on William’s shoulder and kissed his neck. No one had ever kissed William’s neck before. Ever. William kissed him back.

“I-I’m dead,” William said as though he had just remembered. “And I’m not going to be on earth most of the year. Is that really okay?”

“I don’t mind long distance if you don’t,” said Jack. “Maybe I’ll break out the old ouija board. Have Friday night seances.”

William smiled and Jack smiled back; they lay back on the bed and held hands. William wished they could enter a time loop and stay in that moment forever. Even so, his thoughts eventually turned to Elizabeth and what they had talked about on the porch. He hoped she would take the news okay. This new thing with Jack was wonderful, but he couldn’t let it distract it from his real mission that night; solving Elizabeth’s problem.

“Jack,” he said. “What do you know about freeing spirits that are stuck possessing inanimate objects? Not freeing them to be ghosts on earth but sending them straight to passing over?”

“Stuck like you were?”

William nodded.

“Is this about Elizabeth by chance?”

William measured his palm against the ceiling; he could see the ceiling through it. “She told me she isn’t happy on earth anymore,” he said. “She wants to come with me. Tonight, when we return. But I’m not happy about the thought of her going through those tests.”

“Tests?”

“Yes. Afterlife tests. Hell if I know what they’re for.” It occurred to William that maybe he shouldn’t be talking about the tests with a living person, but he reassured himself that Jack was different; he already knew things that most living people didn’t because he could see spirits. “Some of them leave you feeling really weird afterwards. You have to do most of them alone and I don’t like the thought of Elizabeth going through that.”

“Does George go through these tests?” asked Jack.

“Unfortunately.”

“Are they the same as yours or different because he’s so young?”

“He doesn’t talk about them,” said William. “If anything, I think they’re harder because he’s been there longer. Almost thirty years.”

“You think he’s closer to the end?”

“Probably.”

“What do you think comes after?”

“I don’t know, Jack.” William sat up abruptly. “I don’t know anything.”

Jack sat up slowly. “Sorry. It was insensitive of me to ask that. I was just curious.”

“No, I’m sorry,” said William. “It’s not like I don’t think about it all the time already.” It was true; William was always thinking about what may lie beyond the current level of the afterlife he, Henry and George found themselves in. He found it difficult to believe that it was all there was after death.

There came a knock at the door. In reflex, William and Jack scooted away from each other and fixed their hair and straightened their clothes. Jack did, anyway; William’s form reset automatically.

“Yes?” called Jack.

“Dad fell asleep,” said Beth. “And he won’t wake up.”

Panic shot through William and he bolted up from the bed. No, he thought, not Mike. William phased through the door. Beth was standing on the other side, her fist still raised to knock again. She looked extremely worried.

“Where is he, Beth?” William asked.

“The table,” said Beth. Her lip quivered. When William saw this, he crouched down and grasped her hands.

“Your dad’s going to be okay,” he assured her, even though he couldn’t know that. Jack opened the door and William stood back up. “He’ll be okay,” William said again. He exchanged a serious look with Jack, mentally asking him to take care of Beth, before planting a quick kiss on Beth’s forehead and racing down the hall.

Mike’s body seemed stable most of the time, but because it had continued to live, flying in the face of all natural laws—missing most of his organs and more than half made of plastic tubing—William knew his hold on life was tenuous at best and a time bomb at worst. He survived in a rounding error and if anything jumpstarted his system, refreshed the calculation, removed the free radical he was hanging onto, he might lose his connection one day, like a phone plugged into the wall of a house with no power. He might be walking in the park and fall and not be able to get back up. He might hit his head in just the right spot or stand too close to a strong magnet and disconnect his fragile remaining neurons forever.

Or, for seemingly no reason at all, he might pass out and not wake up.

William slowed as he approached the kitchen, afraid of what he might find. He didn’t have any more remnant. If he got into the kitchen and saw Mike’s ghost floating beside his corpse, there would be nothing he could do.

Sammy and George stood pressed against the counter, watching from a distance. Michael lay face down on the table with his arms dangling dead underneath, completely still. His hot chocolate had spilled and made a brown puddle with whipped cream and waterlogged sprinkles. It dripped lazily onto the linoleum. Elizabeth had begun unzipping her princess dress and unwinding the cables that formed her arms, preparing to perform emergency surgery. William was glad he got there when he did and not after she had already opened him up.

He scanned the room for Michael’s ghost but didn’t see it, meaning either he was already gone or he was still attached to his body. Michael wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye.

Elizabeth spied William and stood up taller.

“Something is wrong with Michael, Daddy,” she said. “We have to fix him.”

William staggered to the table and hugged Elizabeth distractedly. “He’ll be okay,” he said. He hugged the boys each in turn. “George, would you take Sammy and go find Jack and Beth? Start a board game or something in the other room while Lizzie and I take care of this.” Elizabeth would have beamed with pride if she wasn’t so worried.

“Should we call Charlie?” asked George. He had a more level head than Sammy in this situation, but he was still rocking anxiously from one foot to the other. Even though he was probably more comfortable with death than any of them, he was still a kid.

“Let Lizzie and I see what we can do first,” said William. He didn’t want to tell Charlie bad news unless it was absolutely necessary. And he couldn’t allow himself to see this as bad news yet. “Run along now,” he said and George obeyed. George took Sammy by the hand and led him out of the kitchen and down the hall.

“So,” William said to Elizabeth when the boys were out of earshot. “What happened?”

He pressed his hand gently to Michael’s face. There was no flicker of his eyelids or the muscles in his face. William couldn’t feel temperature and only barely feel pressure. All he had were his sight and hearing and neither were giving him any hints.

“Sammy was telling us about Power Rangers and Mike kinda yawned when he was telling it and started lying down on the table.” Elizabeth fidgeted with her dress as she spoke. “He grabbed the table but he was still smiling, so we thought he was joking, like Sammy was talking too much or something.” She paused and stared long at her adult brother. “It was kind of a mean joke, actually,” she said. “We should have known Mike wouldn’t make such a joke like that now that he’s an adult. But we wish he was joking now because this is scary and we don’t like it.” She wiped her eyes. The various multicolored eyes scattered throughout her mechanical body flickered. “We killed him, Daddy,” she sobbed. “He would be okay if we hadn’t scooped him back then in the lab.”

William embraced her and rubbed her back comfortingly. He was drawn back to when he, in that rotted rabbit suit, had lured Michael down into the underground lab; how safe he’d thought it’d be. And when they realized too late that it was anything but safe, Michael had been the one to pay the price, for William’s selfishness and Elizabeth’s fear. Elizabeth had done the only thing she could think of to escape and take back her family, which was to become human again and neutralize the threat: William. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t recognize Michael in time, nor was it her fault for being trapped and afraid for so long.

“That was my fault and only mine,” said William. “No one blames you for what happened. Especially not Mike. Okay?”

Elizabeth nodded tearfully.

“Okay,” said William. He wracked his brain for a plan. “Help me lay him on the floor.”

Elizabeth obeyed. She grabbed under Mike’s arms, William lifted his feet, and together they spread him out onto his back on the linoleum. His eyes were still closed, they hadn’t sagged open, which William supposed was a good sign.

William couldn’t see his chest moving with breath, though, nor could he hear a heartbeat.

“Okay,” William said again like it was an incantation that would summon a solution. “Hand me a spoon, please, Lizzie.”

Lizzie handed him one of the stirring spoons sitting by the cups of hot chocolate Michael hadn’t spilled. William wiped the residue off onto Mike’s shirt and held the back of the spoon under Mike’s nostrils. No fog appeared on the metal, indicating no breath. Mike’s face was sunken and sallow in the kitchen light; it looked dead.

William clenched his fists so tightly they shook and ached. He breathed deeply to steady himself.

“Is he dead?” Elizabeth asked quietly. William bit his lip hard and forced himself to stay calm even as he felt his grip slipping. She gave a buzzing gasp. “His heart’s going again.”

William looked up suddenly. “What?”

“His heart,” said Elizabeth, easing to her knees beside them. “We feel it in the floor.” She pressed her hand to the linoleum. William copied her but didn’t feel anything.

“That’s incredible. How—” he started to ask, then remembered what he had built the Funtime animatronics for and the sensors he had included. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Daddy,” she said. “But his heart’s beating now. It wasn’t before. That’s good, isn’t it? Did he come back to life again?”

“I don’t know,” said William. He pressed his hand to Mike’s chest but still felt nothing. “But you’re right. It’s really good.” He tried the spoon test again but Mike still wasn’t breathing.

“Can we call Charlie now?” asked Elizabeth. “She would want to know.”

William was at a loss. Michael wasn’t dead but something was seriously wrong with him and it wasn’t something a hospital could fix. William was way out of his depth but he had to solve it because he’s the only one who could. No one knew more about remnant than him. Well, almost no one.

William really didn’t want to ask Henry for help. He could picture Henry with both a smug smile and an irritated frown upon being told and he didn’t want to encounter either. He didn’t want Henry to think he was still unable to take care of his family. And to see Charlie’s cocktail of fear and rage…he couldn’t handle both. He couldn’t deal with them and his own fear and sorrow all at the same time. But the fact still remained that Michael was lying unconscious on the floor, heart pumping but not breathing, and he had no idea what to do.

William stood and brushed off his knees out of habit. “Lizzie.” His voice wobbled like his legs. “Please stay with your brother a moment while I-I go ask Jack to ring Charlie.”

Elizabeth nodded, the light in her multiple eyes softening. “Okay, Daddy.”

William strode toward the living room but stopped and poked his head back in. “A-and no surgery,” he said. “No opening him up and going inside. Promise me, Lizzie.”

“We promise,” she replied and settled more fully to the floor.

William floated numbly down the hall and into Jack’s bedroom. Jack had taken down a board game and he and the boys were solemnly moving the pieces around the board. When Jack saw William appear in the doorway, he stood up, told the kids to keep playing without him, and closed himself and William out in the hall. He asked how Michael was and William couldn’t bring himself to lie. He filled Jack in.

“Could you please call Charlie for me?” William asked. “I need Henry to come over. And Charlie, too, I guess, since he doesn’t know the way. However they want to do it, I just…I need Henry here.”

Jack held William’s hands to steady them. “I can do that,” he said. He rubbed his hands gently. “Deep breath. You’re doing great.”

William squeezed his hands in response and stepped away. He wasn’t doing great but Jack was trying to be kind, so he didn’t fight him on it. “Thanks,” he said. He gave him a quick kiss like an afterthought and headed back toward the kitchen. “Thank you,” he said again.

He found his children just where he had left them. He sat on the floor next to Elizabeth and put his arm around her.

“Uncle Henry’s coming over with Charlie,” he said. “He’ll know what to do.”

Elizabeth looked at him in disbelief. “He’ll hurt Mike,” she said.

William shook his head. “He won’t,” he said, hugging her closer. “Because there’s no reason for him to, and he doesn’t do things without a reason.”

He said it to comfort himself more than Elizabeth. Part of him worried that Henry would harm Michael on purpose, out of spite or revenge, and in bringing him here, that it would be William’s fault. But William knew his own friend better than that. He didn’t do anything without a plan or reason. If he looked ten steps down the path and didn’t see significant personal benefit, he didn’t make a single move. When Charlie was little and still living with Henry, Henry had stuck a nutritional chart on the refrigerator that delegated all the required nutrients for a seven-year-old girl—updated as she grew—through the week in exact amounts of vegetables, fruit, protein, and grains. Her school lunches were masterpieces of scientific perfection; Mike told William so one day, while eating the tiny tupperware of nuts Charlie had traded him for his ziplock bag of popcorn.

The fact remained, there was no reason for Henry to want Michael dead. In fact, Michael's death would make this and subsequent visits so much more difficult. Because of this, William had to trust that Henry would do his honest best to save him.

A few minutes later, Jack entered the kitchen holding his cell phone. He had called Charlie and she said she would be over right away. But there was just one problem.

“She says she can’t find him,” said Jack.

William got slowly to his feet. He was having trouble computing what Jack was saying. “What?” he asked.

“Henry went into the garage and disappeared,” said Jack. “Charlie hasn’t seen him for over an hour.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "No surgery, Elizabeth, I mean it. Not even a little bit," says William.
> 
> Elizabeth doesn't get what the big deal is. What do you do when a machine is broken? You take it apart and fix it. Michael's pumped full of remnant. He can handle it.


End file.
